


Crown With Wine My Mournful Head

by sablesheep



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Arguable Definition of a Foursome, Dubious Ethics, F/F, Mildly Dubious Consent, Scourge, Scourge Sisters, Terrible Incest Jokes, Terrible Legal Puns, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 01:48:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sablesheep/pseuds/sablesheep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is what happens when you go drinking with a pirate. You get arrested for public intoxication and end up having angry sex on the floor of an interrogation room. Like <i>always</i>.</p><p>Otherwise summarized as "Mindfang gets bored, gets Vriska drunk and tries to see how many charges she can rack up in one evening." And then Redglare and Terezi are the arresting officers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crown With Wine My Mournful Head

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cynicow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cynicow/gifts), [VoidShadows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidShadows/gifts).



> Written in an AU mindset where, upon reaching maturation, trolls are apprenticed to their ancestors. 
> 
> Wrote this last summer, didn't get around to posting it until a few dear readers over at Deep Waters, Strange Bedfellows brought up their love for Scourgecest which I kind of also adore. Was supposed to be smut; kind of turned into terribly written smut accompanied by some feels.

Vriska and Mindfang are thrown into one of the interrogation rooms without so much as a: "someone will be with you shortly" or a "don't kill one another". The door slams behind them with an ominous clang. For about two minutes Vriska can't do anything but whine, drunkenly and wordlessly at the sight of the brightly colored bloodstains plastering the rusted metal walls. Mindfang tires of this quickly and pulls Vriska down into her lap, stroking her hair out of her face.

As Vriska does her best to calm down and not make a total ass of herself, Mindfang cuddles her closer. A hand slides up under her skirt and curls into her thigh and a robotic prosthesis runs up and down over her hair. 

"Darling, darling." Mindfang coos, nuzzling her throat before kissing her neck. "We're perfectly fine. C'mon love, it's your first arrest! Aren't you excited~!"

"To be perfectly honest," Vriska snuffles, slapping away Mindfang's meandering hand. "I was kinda hoping that it would be for something a little more illustrious than public intoxication."

Mindfang chuckles and shifts her arm so that it's wrapped around Vriska's neck. "Well, Pet, think of it like this. You're a chip off the old block."

"Really, Mistress?" Vriska murmurs, almost blissful at the praise in her drunkenness. 

"Darling, you are the most precious thing in the world when you're drunk off that fine ass of yours, did you know that?"

"Mmmmmmmmhm you might have mentioned--" She's cut off by Mindfang's teeth sinking into her neck and she lets out a strangled groan before slapping her away (gently, though). 

This time it's Vriska's hands that are wandering and when she's snuggled up to Mindfang like this it's hard to remember to be terrified by their surroundings and she's pretending this is that lovely pub they were at eighteen minutes ago making out on the bar counter. Mindfang smells like a mixture of high-quality rum, sea air and saltwater taffy. She can understand the first two; the woman doesn't drink heavily but she almost always has at least a flask on her and the bitter seasaltiness is kind of understandable given her profession but the candy is just inexplicable-- Yes, thank GOD Mindfang's got a flask tucked in her garter.

She pulls out of Mindfang's warm embrace long enough to take a swig from the flask. Mindfang huffs but is still smirking in a way that clearly indicates she's still getting exactly what she wants. 

"You only hit on me when you want my alcohol, darling. I'm going to feel quite put out about it one of these days, you know." Mindfang takes the flask and takes a long draught, even though she doesn't really need the alcohol to get through the interview or continue hitting on Vriska. 

Vriska steals it back, ignoring the renewed burn that spreads down her throat. With the first sip she'd been too glad to find another source of inebriation to really pay much attention to the taste but ugh, seriously, what proof was this shit? She could probably breathe fire if someone found her a match. "Not true."

"Yes true." Mindfang insists, shooing Vriska out of her lap by seating her at the edge of the table. She presses her palms onto the tabletop on either side of her and rises slowly, looming over Vriska. 

With a snort of disparagement at what is clearly an overused intimidation technique, Vriska wraps her legs around Mindfang's waist and tugs her close. She doesn't stumble because Mindfang would never stumble, but she melts forward until Vriska can twine her hands around her neck and fuck she is so drunk she can't even toaster. Without heed for the fact that the table has provisions for manacles and what appears to be grooves to allow blood to drain off, they're suddenly continuing the business that got them arrested in the first place; public drunkenness, lewd and lascivious behavior, indecent exposure and in the case of Mindfang, unlawful provision of alcoholic beverages to a minor (in Vriska's case, underage drinking). 

Mindfang kisses with a shocking passion considering the lazy, condescending way she usually treats all her romantic encounters. I had taken Vriska almost three sweeps to figure out that her sly comments weren't just Mindfang being Mindfang and were pointed directly at snagging Vriska's attention and it had taken an additional sweep for her to work up the confidence to respond in kind. 

"Darling," Mindfang breathes, breaking off the kiss to begin shoving Vriska's coat off her shoulders. "Darling you are just... damn, girl, that tongue of yours." 

"Good?" Vriska asks, hopefully, unable to keep the innocent need to be praised from seeping into her voice. "S'okay?"

"You need to be less drunk right now so we can have this conversation properly sometime about what exactly you should be doing with-"

Vriska cuts her off before she can finish the thought, digging her claws into Mindfang's shoulders and ignoring the sharp hiss of surprise and outrage that she lets out because they might be in jail but fuck all she wants to do is keep kissing her for the rest of the night or at least until she gets a hangover. 

Or, at the very least, keep kissing her until the Legislacerators show up to, well, you know. Dispense justice. Vriska wants to pull back and ask Mindfang what exactly to expect because, to be frank, Mindfang's legal file takes up an entire cabinet and she really should know what'll happen, but the press of her lush, warm lips against Vriska's and the pleasant buzz of the strong drink is just too much and--

"Ahem."

Vriska feels Mindfang stiffen but neither of them pull away immediately. It takes the jab of a blunt object into Vriska's back to convince her to remove her tongue from Mindfang's mouth and once again seek refuge cuddled up in her lap. 

"Well then. Isn't this a lovely pantomime of familial affection." There's a pair of Legislacerators standing in the doorway, both dressed in bright red and teal. Vriska recognizes them both immediately and, if she were sober, she'd have turned bright blue and slipped under the table to hide her shame.  
Considering her drunken state, she simply swallows from the flask once more, wincing at the fact that her tongue has gone numb. 

Of course Terezi is here. And of course they'd send Redglare. Because a pair of drunk women making out in a bar commonly frequented by lower-class clientele clearly requires the supervision of the empire's best and brightest.

"Is this going to be an orgy?" Vriska mutters, scowling into her flask and wishing they were cuddled up in Mindfang's cabin instead of watching Terezi struggle not to let out a what is sure to be a terrifying cackle. 

"No." Mindfang finally reclaims the alcohol source, shutting the cap, twisting it and stuffing it back into her garter. "Foursome, I think."

"Anything past three is an orgy."

"No, it's not an orgy until there's more than eight. Those are the rules." Mindfang chuckles softly, staring at Redglare with her eyebrows arched incredibly high. She curls Vriska's leg around her waist, already short petticoats inching up and showing far more bare skin than her descendant would be happy with normally but hey they were attempting to entrance law officials and Vriska was feeling absolutely no pain with the amount of wind in her sails.

"You're using your descendant to seduce officials of the empire while arguing with her about the definition of an orgy. While drunk off your arse." Redglare sounds even more uncaused than normal which is quite the feat since she spends most of her time with Mindfang looking either absolutely bored or completely frustrated. 

Terezi, on the other hand, has never been exposed to Mindfang or a drunken Vriska and looks about eight seconds away from dissolving into semi-hysterical laughter.

"Yes, well..." Mindfang wrinkles her nose and cuddles Vriska closer. "Like you said. I am very drunk."

"And I'm so much drunker."

"Yes, Vriska is far drunker."

"By far."

"Darling they get the point, you don't need to keep iterating."

"Are we going to jail?" Vriska mumbles in her smallest voice, knowing she sounds pathetic but fuck all its Mindfang and she probably always thinks she's a little pathetic anyways and oh Gog she's about to become a weepy drunk. "I want to go home."

"We're not going to jail, Pet. The nice Legislacerators are going to yell at us, possibly cut off pertinent body parts and send us home in a body bag." Mindfang's giving Redglare her most belligerent smirk and Vriska's pretty sure she's joking but she whines like a newborn bark beast and hides her face in Mindfang's shoulder anyways.

"You're scaring my little girl, Redglare."

"She's the same size as you and can probably kill a man with her right hand alone." The Legislacerator is still standing, clearly not wanting to put herself on the same level as Mindfang. She's already slipped off her glasses and her fire-blinded eyes are almost as off-putting as Terezi's but not really because every time Terezi takes off her glasses all that Vriska can think is 'wow I am a massive fuck up' and it makes her heart twist and clench in the strangest way. 

Okay not the strangest way. In a guilty way. What was it Mindfang had been lecturing her about before they'd gotten too drunk to do anything but make out on the floor of a bar? Oh. Right. It didn't do her any good to deny her feelings and try to be impressive all the time because it wasn't any fun anyways.

"Please stop behaving in such a provocative manner in front of my apprentice. It's hardly appropriate."

At this Vriska starts laughing so hard that she falls out of Mindfang's lap and onto the floor. No one makes a move to pick her up which is probably for the best because the floor is suddenly very welcoming. Until she opens her eyes and realizes it's covered in years of dried blood and screams, tries to bolt to her feet and just manages to hit her head and horns so hard on the table that everything goes black and purple for a few seconds. 

"Oh fuck." She finally manages to slur, rubbing at her head. "You people need to clean in here."

"I think someone should take you home." Mindfang mutters, looking like it's her birthday and 12th perigees eve all at once and hiding it poorly. Vriska snarls at her because fuck that really hurt okay? But Mindfang makes it better when she seditiously passes her another flask, this one full of brandy instead of vodka and damn--

"Stop getting her drunk." The flask is kicked out of her hand by a very well-placed red boot. Vriska resists the urge to tackle Redglare's feet and see how hard it would be to chew through leather because, well, that wouldn't end well.

Fucking Lawyers. 

"I think she's already there, my dear." Mindfang's back to her usual poised self, her hands resting just beneath her chin and her posture impeccable. "But you're welcome to get her to sober up."

Redglare snorts. "You're not the one in charge here, Marquise."

"Oh, I know." Mindfang is probably smirking. Vriska can't really see because she's got her face pressed into her lap, with a hand knitting itself into her hair. "But I would recommend having someone escort the poor thing home."

"You're talking about her like she's an innocent little thing wearing petticoats and satin."

"She IS wearing petticoats and satin."

"You know what I mean to imply, Marquise. Stop trying to be clever."

"See, the funny thing about that is that I am clever. So clever, in fact, the only thing you've managed to bring me up on charges for is... well... getting drunk with Vriska."

"It's not very impressive." Vriska shakes her head and manages to haul herself into the chair next to Mindfang's. Almost immediately she starts to regret the decision-- the steel is cold and nowhere near as welcoming as her ancestor's warmth. "Nope. Nope. So drunk I would have turned myself in if you'd have ask."

"Asked, darling."

"If you'd have assed."

"Asked, there's a K."

"Kay."

"Oh for the love of-" Redglare glared at them, clear ready to stab them both. She snaps at Terezi who is looking even more wickedly pleased than Mindfang and can barely compose herself long enough to look official. "Take her out of here and get her sobered up enough to form a sentence."

"I think it might be prudent, ma’am to simply return her to her dwelling and allow her guardian to pay the appropriate fines." Terezi murmurs, deferentially, bowing her head to hide her bemused expression. "I think sobering her up might take a few days, at the very least."

"Very astute, apprentice."

"Thank you, Marquise. Might I also say that your coat is particularly impressive. I like the ruffles."

"Thank you, awww, aren't you darling. See, Redglare, this is how you work with clients."

"You're not a client, you're a criminal." Redglare snarls, showing her shark teeth. "Stop behaving like you're in control of this situation. Terezi-- stop being a smartass! It's hardly becoming in a woman of your position."

"I'm rather fond of her ass." Vriska mutters, lifting her head off the tabletop long enough to smirk at Terezi who cackles-- turning it into a cough with remarkable speed. "It's pretty damn sexy."

"MARQUISE. Control your--"

"I have no control over her whatsoever. Don't blame me for this." Mindfang protested, raising her hands in a gesture of mock offense. "Shame on you, Theresea for thinking so lowly of me."

"I hope whoever told you my name died." Redglare sinks into the chair across from Mindfang's with a scowl etched into her face. She's a lot less assured looking that Mindfang or Terezi, but there's something almost ridiculously authoritative about her. She's not sure what she's doing, exactly, but it's clear she knows what she believes and will get what she wants. Somehow. 

Mindfang leans towards her, still smiling her best besmirched aristocrat smile. Vriska lets out a happy sigh as she watches and Mindfang rolls her eyes, reaching over to rub her back softly. "Oh, he did."

"Horribly?" The Legislacerator accepts the file that Terezi hands her and flips it open on the tabletop. She's tapping her glasses against the steel of the tabletop and the reverberations are beginning to give Vriska somewhat of a headache. 

Mindfang doesn't seem too happy about the tapping either; the longer it goes on the more the skin surrounding her demolished eye twitches in tandem. Still, she keeps her composure much better than Vriska does. "Strangled by an octopus. It was pretty bad. I did my best to stop it but hey, what do you expect when you try to procreate with a deranged sea creature."

"To be having a conversation with you?"

"Touché, m'dear." Mindfang laughs, turning her attention once more to Vriska, who's not finding this much fun at all now that no one's paying attention to her and is making her displeasure known by tapping her own metallic fingers against the table. She reaches out and stills her hand then forcefully yanks her back into her lap, pinning both her arms at her sides. 

"If you don't stop that I will set you adrift in the middle of the ocean and leave you there for eight days, so help me Serket." She hisses, baring both of her remarkable fangs. Vriska sneers back and briefly wonders if this is going to turn into an awkward sexual encounter with a pair of unwillingly voyeuristic lawyers. "Don't fuck with me Vriska, you know I will."

"Hmph." Vriska continues to stare her down, quite well aware that she's not going to succeed in intimidating Mindfang, but wanting to give it her best efforts anyways. She can hear Terezi's stifled giggles in the background followed by the sharp tap of a cane on concrete which is apparently Redglare's form of a verbal rebuke because the laughter stops immediately.

"Serket." Mindfang growls, narrowing her eyes. "Do you understand me?"

Vriska wants to say no, I'm too drunk to understand fucking anything right now and everything just seems super fucking funny, okay? but that wouldn't go over well. She settles for huffing and burying her head into Mindfang's hair, her chin resting on her collarbone. Mindfang doesn't seem to think this is much of a victory or an acceptable concession and yanks her back by a handful of her own black curls. 

Wincing, Vriska feels Mindfang's mental presence beginning to push against her own and realizes, belatedly, that she isn't the only drunk one here, but she'll be fucked if she's going to give in. With a ferocious snarl, she tears her hair out of Mindfang's grip and lunges for her. The startled look on her face is only compounded by the fact that the chair very quickly crashes onto the floor, unable to balance against the weight of both of them. Jolted by the ground, Mindfang's temper doesn't seem to improve very much and before Vriska can figure out-- drunkenly, she'd like to add-- what her next move will be, she's been pinned to the ground.

"The fuck are you doing?" She mutters, eyes narrowed to gorgeous yellow and blue slits. "Get your head in the game, Vriska."

"Too drunk."

"Well. That's acceptable, I suppose." Mindfang arches an imperious eyebrow and gives her a look that can only be interpreted as sly pride. "Good try."

"But not good enough?"

"Hardly." 

And then, just like that, they're kissing once more, Vriska's hands buried in her ancestress's hair with her fingernails digging into her scalp and boot heels scrabbling against the disgusting floor. Mindfang snorts and keeps her hands braced against Vriska's hips, not giving her enough leverage to run away or move much closer. She's paying far more attention to this kiss than the previous one, much more attention to what makes Vriska twitch and shudder instead of simply doing her best to kiss her senseless. 

Vriska couldn't care less if it's because this time she was provoked into it or if it's because she knows they have an audience. Either way she's practically a gibbering mess-- and that's before the hormones kicked in. Why aren't they at home? Or on board the ship? Or, well, anywhere but here? Because here there isn't any recourse if things get much more heated. They're going to have to have sex on the floor of a bloodied interrogation room and she really, really doesn't want to do that even if she's drunker than a bumblebee in a vodka bottle or whatever. 

But it seems that the Marquise is far less bothered by their locale and audience both, because before Vriska can pull away long enough to grumble: 'my body my choice', she's halfway out of her coat and can feel the steady chill of mechanical fingers sliding under the hem of her shirt and oh god that's amazing in the most wonderful way against the heatedness of her-- and-- and-- oh god that was nice. 

"OKAY THAT'S ENOUGH." Redglare snaps, her voice echoing through the room like the crack of a whip. It jolts Vriska back to reality but not Mindfang, who refuses to let her go long enough to catch her breath. "Terezi, just-- just-- Take her next door and deal with her, please."

"Of course, Ma’am."

Vriska has struggled out of Mindfang's embrace and thrown herself into Terezi's in moments. Redglare lets out a sound that resembles a cat being stepped on and Mindfang starts to laugh hysterically, still splayed out on the floor. 

"Oh god, if I knew this is what it'd take to get you a hot, trembling mess--" Mindfang is chuckling, slapping the floor in an effort to relieve her laughter. 

Redglare looks as if she can't believe her eyes. She's clearly affronted by both Vriska's excitement to be taken away for private interrogation and Mindfang's reaction to it. "Marquise, I fail to see how this amusing in the slightest."

"Little gorgeous blind one, take care of my little girl." Mindfang purrs, sitting up enough to grin at Terezi in a clearly predatory manner. 

"Will do mama spider." Terezi says with a salute and a cackle that makes Redglare groan.

* * *

 

Terezi has her tied to the chair before Vriska can fully process what's going on. She tests the rope the second that she's able to and quickly realizes that it wouldn't be all that hard to fight her way out-- but it _would_ be a pain in the ass. 

"Is this technical procedure, Neophyte, or are you just happy to see me?" She purrs, gratified that her liquor induced haze has dissipated enough that she can remember how to properly enunciate. Terezi's looking at her with skeptical eyebrows, leaning on her cane low enough that they're eye level. It feels like something out of their FLARPing days, except for the fact that this is very real, Vriska is very drunk and, to be entirely honest, way too horny. 

Seriously. Fucking pirates.

She keeps it together enough to remain dignified, though, feeling more than a little sure that Mindfang would find out if she started bawling histrionically and never let her live it down, ever, not even in eight million years. 

She returns Terezi's disparaging stare with a smirk, showing her teeth. They're not as impressive as Mindfang's but in her defense she's about eighteen sweeps younger and hasn't had the time to cultivate a fang filled grin. "Like what you see?" She finally purrs to break the silence. 

Terezi smiles with an equal amount of teeth and leans in close, close enough that Vriska could count ever single exquisitely pointed pearly molar. In a gesture that's far more tender than she expects, Terezi reaches up and trails a hand down the side of her face in a gentle caress. It's strange to feel the warmth of her skin through the red leather of her gloves and remembering the feel of her actual touch makes her want it even more, but at the same time it's exhilarating to have the separation.

It's probably Mindfang's influence rubbing off on her but, well, she's really got a thing for leather. And, it would seem, she thinks with an audible snort, oddly contorted relationships. 

As Vriska lets herself relax into the feel of the legislacterator-issued uniform glove against her cheek, she spares only an eighth of her inebriated brain to think 'this can't be all she's going to do' before smirking a little wider and nuzzling into it. She does her best to keep her eyes fixed on Terezi's as she does so, wondering if the constant staring has the same impact on blind chicks as it does on regular passers-by. 

"Cat got your tongue?" She breathes, crossing her legs slowly. She watches Terezi's grin begin to widen and then, suddenly, her heart bottoms out through her throat because she knows that grin and it never means anything good for her intended quarry and-- 

Terezi slaps her. Hard. Hard enough to snap her head to one side and leave her momentarily reeling. She sees stars dance around the edge of her vision, making her feel nauseous for the first time that night (which is quite an accomplishment). 

Before she can open her mouth to speak, Terezi is very much up in her business, arms draped casually over her shoulders, leaning forward over Vriska's seated figure.

"I'm in charge here, Vriska." She whispers, sinking her teeth into her earlobe deep enough to leave a perfect line of pinpricks. The shudder of her warm breath against Vriska's perpetually cold skin is enough to reduce her to trembling, dropping her head back and letting her eyes widen with the anticipation of things to come. "And if you think I'm going to let you get the upper hand... well... I might just have to show you otherwise."

"Good luck trying." She manages to pant, wishing she had her arms free because hot damn would she like to be tackling Terezi to the floor now. 

Terezi laughs, humorlessly. It's not the cackle she's used to or the weird crazy giggle. It's a dry, humorless sound and Vriska doesn't like it one bit. "I don't need luck, Serket. I've got the law on my side."

Vriska wants to say something clever in response and opens her mouth to do so, but instead of the rather snarky: 'if the law's so great why isn't my ancestress dead, huh? huh?' she simply goes:

"Oh. Well. I see."

It's not what she expected to say and it's clearly not what Terezi wanted either. She frowns and slides off her glasses, tossing them onto the table with a clatter. Before Vriska has a chance to mutter an apology, like she always does when she sees a bare-faced Terezi, there's a familiar all-too-bony weight settling itself around her. Terezi has the energy level of a rabbit on crack and the metabolism of a highland cheetah; there's not a spare ounce of fat on her body and it shows when she presses herself against you. 

She wants to growl and cuddle up close and show all of her teeth all at the same time. It would be hard, but she's sure she could manage if she was able to bust out of the ropes but...

Oh god. Vriska lets out a choked cough. Terezi has a hand wrapped around her trachea just tightly enough to make her breaths sound like a death rattle. It's clearly a warning of some sort and she holds herself as still as possible while still maintaining her grin. Posterity, always posterity. 

"I am going to permanently tear that smirk from that face of yours." 

"Oh, really now?" Vriska manages to whisper, afraid if she talks at a normal tone of voice she'll destroy her vocal cords. "And how do you propose to do that, now?"

"I'm thinking about it, Serket." She arches one of her eyebrows and it's gorgeous, like an obsidian streak against a marble bust. It makes all the difference in her expression, as does the show of bright white teeth. 

Her hip bones have always jutted out several inches and Vriska can now feel the effect of years of legislacerator training in the fact that her thighs are as tight as rubber bands and her hips have gone from protuberances to dull knives digging into her diaphragm.

She's straddling her somehow, even though the chair's barely big enough for Vriska to sit comfortably and her knee bones are digging into Vriska's ass. She's clearly doing her best to make her presence known, even though she's not about to forget it when she can feel Terezi's warm breath against her lips and see her ruby eyes even when she blinks. 

She's trembling like she did the first time she was aboard the flagship in the middle of a typhoon but instead of clinging to Mindfang and sobbing for her life she's fighting to keep from bucking her hips into her jailor's. Terezi knows it too and she's doing her best to force Vriska to the edge, her lips hovering centimeters above hers and her free hand tracing the exposed ridges of her collarbones. 

Vriska can distinctly remember a similar examination, a fare more intimate one where she was tied to her bedframe and it was Terezi's ridiculously dexterous tongue instead of the ghostly touch of her fingers, just close enough to raise hairs but not close enough to give her any form of gratification whatsoever. 

In her drunken state this is almost completely intolerable. She wants to whine and bitch and let Terezi know under no uncertain terms that if she doesn't get some face to face contact in eight seconds she's going to be very upset and file an official complaint with the bureau of interrogations or whoever handles this shit.

Except every time she opens her mouth to protest something the hand around her throat tightens. It's a good interrogation technique, or it would be if 'Rez was saying anything. She's not letting a syllable pass through those gorgeous lips of hers, keeping her own little smirk on her face.

It's nothing like Mindfang's bold 'I'm going to be fucking you in eight minutes, literally or metaphorically or ironically so let's not even pretend you're winning' smirk or Vriska's own: 'oh it's cute how you think you're going to win' sneer. It's a wicked smile full of a sort of all-knowingness.

It's not cocky, it's not over-assured-- it's a smirk full of knowledge that Terezi alone is privy to and it never fails to make Vriska feel like a total moron. Or, well, really seriously threatened. 

"Are you going to be a good girl?" Terezi finally breathes, shifting close enough so that when Vriska takes a quick, sharp breath she feels her ribcage brush her companion's.

Vriska doesn't want to say yes. She wants to inform her interrogator that under no circumstances is she going to let herself be treated like a three sweep old girl being scolded for breaking into a cookie jar. The only person allowed to make her feel like that is Mindfang who kind of really has the right to do so.

Terezi Pyrope, however, does not. Even if she is now a high ranking legal official. Vriska wants to light her on fire and kiss her half to death and cover her with rose petals all at the same time. 

"You're gorgeous." Vriska says instead, her voice trailing off into a high pitched moan as Terezi's hands tighten horribly around her neck and she tries to suck in breath in vain. 

"That was a compliment." She manages to hiss. It's horrible that she's so excited to be taken advantage of. 

"You're not allowed to talk, Serket." Terezi whispers, narrowing her eyes. "If you make another sound I will get a noose around your neck and tug."

Terezi's hand slips between her legs before she can properly react. Her fingernails scrape up her inner thighs leaving a trail of raised blue marks. She's beginning to feel like it would have been a good idea to wear something a little more scintillating or something a little more substantial because she's inadvertently made Terezi's quest far too easy.

"Oh goodness gracious, Miss Serket." Terezi gasps in mock shock and her face is inappropriately comical given the fact that Vriska's reasonably sure she's about to be assaulted. "Another charge to be added, I see-- public indecency."

Wait does it count as assault when both parties are kind of into it? Fuck. She can't remember. Either way she's definitely going to be suing the legal system over this. 

"Unless someone can see my junk, I don't think it counts as indecency." Vriska grumbles, doing her best not to be embarrassed by the fact that she's having a serious legal conversation about the state of her genitals. Well maybe not legal but, well, it could have legal implications. "And you're the one with a hand up my skirt so--"

"The court rules in favor of you enjoying yourself far too much." Terezi cackles and some of the tension seeps out of Vriska's shoulders because _there_ it is, that ghoulish laugh that she'll never forget.

"Yeah, well, according to Maritime Law your face is stupid." Vriska grumbles, blushing. Fuck she wishes she wasn't tied up right about now. 

Terezi sits back and considers her, clearly baffled. "...That doesn't make any sense."

"I'm drunk and trying to think of legal pu-UHF." 

Yeah she wasn't kidding about strangling her. Vriska wheezes pathetically and tries to look plaintive but that's rather difficult when her good eye is beginning to bulge out of her face. 

Terezi loosens her grip just before Vriska loses consciousness. Vriska gasps and air sears back into her lungs like a wildfire.

" _Bitch_ ," she wheezes, but without malice. "You could have killed me!"

She finds herself beginning to laugh, contrary to all mandates of common sense. Whether it's the adrenaline, the arousal or the alcohol, she doesn't know-- all that she understands is that this is the most fun she's had in years.

Okay. That's not fair. The most fun she's had without Mindfang in years. Terezi stares at her impassively, waiting for her hysterical laughter to die down. When she finally realizes that, perhaps, Vriska has no intention of stopping her laughter, she sighs.

"You leave me with no choice, Miss Serket. The prosecution finds in favor of the prosecution. The criminal is charged with the criminal offense of being an idiot."

"You can't decide in favor of yourself!" Vriska snorts, eyebrows arching. Terezi's beginning to grin now, as if she's minutes away from climbing up a tree and fading into invisibility until only her teeth remained. "And referring to me as the criminal will prejudice the jury--" 

"The _criminal_ plaintiff is sentenced to shut her big mouth for once." Terezi mutters, and she drops her head forward until their skulls make sharp contact. They both wince but neither girl makes a move to pull back. Vriska's glad because, well, considering how _drunk_ she is, chances are she'd end up stabbing one of Terezi's eyes out with her horns. 

"Not putting me on death row for my offenses?" Vriska teases, grinning as best she can. The tension in the room reaches its climax as her words sink in and they both freeze.

Vriska's laughter dies down as Terezi's face goes somber, her mouth going into a neutral line and the tightness around her eyes increasing once more. 

"I've never wanted you dead, you know," Vriska mutters, sulkily. That's most definitely the liquor talking but she's glad it's doing it. "You were my sister."

"I guess that makes this incest then," Terezi breathes and then _fuck yes_ she's kissing her. Vriska lets out a muffled screech of victory and then squeaks as Terezi's hand curls back around the flesh of her thigh. 

She doesn't taste like anything discernible and she's not wearing any perfume that makes the experience magical. There isn't a scent to her shampoo or her soap or anything-- if Terezi was trying to find herself, she'd be totally blind. But Vriska would know her anywhere, not just because she, unlike Terezi, has still got one good eye left. 

She knows the architecture of her teeth as her tongue slips into Terezi's mouth, and she knows when she'll tilt her head to the side like a squirrel considering her acorn hoarded but instead she deepens the kiss. She knows that if she tries to pull away, Terezi will allow herself to be lead into following--

It's a relief to know she hasn't changed. Her lips haven't changed, her tongue hasn't changed-- and it's a relief. 

Vriska kisses her with all the passion she can muster up, which is a lot all things considered. Terezi responds appreciatively and the hand around her throat relaxes and curls around the back of her neck, her fingers twining into the hair that's matted to the back of her neck.

As she drops her neck back, Terezi advances hungrily. But just as Vriska's tongue slips in past her lips, Terezi pulls away and stares at her, solemnly. 

"I don't think this is ethical," She whispers, swallowing. Vriska watches the movement of her throat with a small moan building in the back of her neck. Oh god she is perfect.

"I don't think I give a fuck," Vriska whispers back, leaning in and-- before Terezi can react-- sinking her teeth into her neck.

Things are going to get far too serious before she wants them to. She wants this to be _quick_ ; in and out. And by that she means she wants Terezi to _do something_ with the hand lurking between her legs. 

And that something is, specifically, _get her off_. She'd get more graphic but she's still kind of-- well--

 _Shy_ about certain things. Only when she's drunk though. Okay. She's always shy about sex but seriously it's kind of hard _not_ to have a complex when the woman trying to have sex with you is _the Marquise Spinneret Mindfang_.

So instead of dealing with the fact that she has no fucking idea what to do next-- especially since she's tied up--she buries her teeth deep into Terezi's throat. Her fangs sink in right where the tendons of her neck give away to soft, succulent silver flesh and blood begins to flow. 

The sober half of her brain takes the next few seconds to wonder if this is a good idea because can't she kill someone by doing this? Are her fangs poisoned? Is she confusing herself with a spider--

Terezi shoves her away with an outraged screech. She crashes backwards in a clatter of boot heels and surprising agility; she keeps her balance perfectly 

It's not the kind of noise Vriska is used to; by now she ought to have adapted enough to adult society on Alternia to recognize that, yes, there are distinctions beyond color between the blood castes, and different vernaculars would, quite obviously, be one of them.

She makes the mistake of assuming Terezi's growling is frightened because it's not _quite_ the right pitch for dominance; she hears that from Mindfang with alarming frequency because-- well-- Fang is always in charge.

But no, when she finally makes eye contact again, she is not at all happy. Or frightened. Or even remotely intimidated. In fact, she looks downright furious.

"You _always do this_ , Vriska," She snarls, her teeth snapping. "Every single time we do something together you think you can do whatever the hell you want and I'll just go along with it--"

"The _fuck_ are you talking about?" Vriska squawks and dies her best not to be intimidated by the blind girl glowering down at her. 

Terezi lets out a screech that can't be heard as anything other than enraged no matter what blood color you've got. She shoves Vriska by the shoulders hard enough that the chair she's tied to goes flying backwards and shatters at its joints.

The breath is forced from her lungs by the impact and her limited vision goes completely fuzzy as she suddenly begins to see glitter.

" _Fuck,_ " She gasps, trying to scramble to her feet among the wreckage of the chair. But Terezi's already scrambled on top of her and has her very well-pinned to the floor.

It helps that her wrists are still trapped behind her. And it also helps that she kind of find it incredible hot to have a blind girl built like the lovechild of a bird of prey and an anorexic lynx, who happens to have the teeth of her great grandfather the great white shark pinning her to the floor.

"For once in your miserable life you're not going to get your way." Terezi whispers and Vriska stares at her, wide-eyed. "I'm going to do exactly what I want with you and if you so much as say one more word--"

"You'll strangle me?" Vriska mutters and, yes, that is apparently the answer because this time Terezi wraps her hands around her throat and presses down. Vriska lets out a strangled plea that's meant to be 'please fuck no don't kill me' and just comes out as 'hrnnk, hrrrk--" and kilters off as she begins to lose consciousness.

She's so startled at staring into Terezi's cold, lifeless eyes looming above her like searchlights that she can't do anything more than kick at the floor in vain.

Vriska doesn't realize she's lost consciousness until Terezi is slapping her awake. She gasps and it _hurts_ \--

"I was never afraid to hurt you, Vriska," Terezi mutters, looking utterly smug. "Even when we were playing for the same side. Why did you think it would be any different simply because we're working on opposite sides?"

Vriska doesn't answer. Partially because of shock, partially because of her better reason kicking in and partially because, well, it's going to piss Terezi off to have to change her mind.

"Good girl, you're _finally learning_ ," Terezi smirks, horribly and-- well-- Vriska bites back a moan. She does glare, however, and wonder if this is really going to be worth it in the end because this would _not_ be the first time they started making out only to have Terezi change her mind when things started getting interesting--

"If you check out on me like you always do I'm going to repeatedly slam your head into this floor until your blood becomes a permanent part of our decor." Terezi grumbles, and Vriska watches the muscles of her face twitch as she rolls her blind eyes and huffs, loudly. 

How can she even do that? Vriska begins to consider the intricacies of facial cues in great detail until she is rather abruptly distracted by Terezi's fingers tangling into her hair and yanking hard enough that her scalp feels like it's going to be stripped from her skull and her neck is pulled back so far she's afraid it'll snap. 

She hisses and tries her best to alleviate the tension on her neck by arching her back but nope that does not work, still got a blind girl sitting on her--

And then Terezi sinks her teeth into her throat like she's a starving wolf and Vriska's the first lame elk she's seen in days and now her carcass is going to be dragged back to the pack for feasting.

Her teeth lack the sharp fangs of Vriska's set but to make up for it each of her teeth are pointed and _fuck_ does that hurt. What is wrong with her? Honestly.

Vriska whines until Terezi eases up and instead begins to lap the blood from her neck with an eagerness that really should be a total turn off but totally isn't at all.

"Eye for an eye," Terezi hisses into her ear, breath hot and moist and really rather exciting. Vriska shudders and growls, low, in the back of her throat.

Is that a pun? _Is that a pun_? She really hopes that's a pun. 

She doesn't want to say anything because she really isn't in the mood to die today. And it seems like Terezi's already in the mood to kill her so-- 

" _Focus, Serket_ ," Terezi hisses, this time shoving her jacket off to bare her shoulders and sinking her teeth into the unmarked gray flesh there. She releases her hold before Vriska can react and then she's got her fangs scratching across her chest to her collarbones, leaving a long line of virulent blue boiling to the surface of her skin. 

When she glances up from her rather rude inspection of Vriska's shoulders, her face is smudged with blood and her eyes are gleaming with something fiercely predatory that Vriska recognizes from their FLARPing days spent planning battles and executing traps and creating schemes more devious than anything and--

Vriska can’t help herself. She musters up the best of her strength and forces her lips against Terezi's. The pressure she's inadvertently placed on her windpipe makes it almost impossible for her to breathe and her blood flow quickly disintegrates and-- well--

She keeps kissing her anyway. Kissing her and hoping Terezi will slam her head into the concrete floor--

Before Vriska can make herself faint, Terezi does so, shoving her to the floor and kissing her like a starved veteran returned home for a decent meal. It's quite possibly the most inelegant thing Vriska's ever done.

It's sloppy and ugly and a horrid mess; Terezi's tongue skirts her fangs and Vriska moans, openmouthed, as she feels Terezi beginning to fumble with the collar of her shirt. 

She kisses her back just as greedily, though, allowing her fangs to pinch and pierce her lips, her cheeks and even her tongue. Their lips clash like fences at the starting call, sometimes aligning and sometimes missing the mark. Vriska's sure her face is covered in saliva and her own blood because that's what Terezi looks like as she looms above her, panting and flushed the world's most attractive shade of teal. 

Vriska wants to be the proud one and not urge her to take things further. She wants to lie there, kissing her and pretending that this isn’t as hot as all fuck but-- well-- She's drunk and she's horny so that's not really an option.

When Terezi's fingers, still covered in the red leather of her gloves, curl around her breast she lets out a noise of absolute delight and rocks her hips forward, hoping to find some contact. 

Terezi's busy looming, however, and it doesn't have any effect beyond eliciting a wicked smirk and a mutter of: 

"Seriously, Vriska?" But she keeps her hand where it is, fingers making deep impressions into her skin. The leather drags against her skin as Terezi sweeps her fingertips over her breasts. Her gloves stick to her skin, warm leather against cold flesh and it's uncomfortable but kind of exhilarating--

" _Take your fucking gloves off_ ," Vriska hisses, risking the potential for death in order to get some skin on skin contact out of this exchange.

"I could lose my job over this, you know," Terezi grumbles with a quiet huff, but does as asked, using her teeth to pull them off. "I'm going to be in so much trouble." 

Vriska huffs and somehow manages to hook a leg over Terezi's back, forcing her to collapse atop of her. Her joints dig into Vriska's flesh like knifepoints and she winces but Terezi doesn’t' miss a beat and soon she's back at work, fumbling blindly to find the waistband of her skirt and, upon finding it, struggling to decide the path of least resistance. 

Vriska does her best to impede the process by ravaging the exposed skin of her neck, which is pretty much the only place she's got access to. She covers it in bite marks, softy and nastily affectionate and kisses that are hurried and fumbled and too flushed for either of them to want to acknowledge it. 

Terezi grumbles and tries her best to shake her off but it's a pathetic attempt, not motivated by anything more than posterity. Apparently deciding it's far too much work to understand the clasp of her skirt, Terezi gives up and instead slips a hand between her legs with a mutter of:

"Honestly, can you ever wear clothes that can be removed in under a quarter hour?" before she quite expertly has her fingers, adroit and expert at seeking out their prey, sneaking beneath her underwear like she does this every day.

Terezi is as expert as ever at manipulating her, as much as Vriska hates to admit it, her fingertips knowing just where to brush to get the best reactions; every move she makes is deliberate and calculated as if she knows without any sort of uncertainty what each twitch of her fingers can do.

Vriska hisses and digs her fingernails into the small of her own back in a pathetic attempt to alleviate the pleasure of the encounter. Her eyes reflexively close and she breathes in through her nose, counting to eight time and time again in an attempt to distract herself from what's happening, not that she doesn't _want_ it to happen, but, well-- 

Terezi is skilled at knowing precisely what to do when it comes to situations like these. She's always been like that, able to predict her every movement, which was an asset when they fought _together_ but now that they're fucking on the floor of an interrogation room, it's not nearly as useful and Vriska's just going to do her best not to look like a woefully underprepared moron. 

There's the brush of well-trimmed fingernails against her nook, a gesture that's innocently testing the waters that she already knows are perfect to dive into and then there's the sudden, heady rush of arousal as Terezi nuzzles her neck while kneading her knuckles against her clit and breathes out softly:

"You can talk now," as her other hand slips off of her throat to stroke the side of her face. Vriska forces herself to open her eyes and Terezi's blind gaze flickers to hers. Her hand stills against the warmth of Vriska's nook and Vriska wants to grumble about it, but--

There's a sudden jolt of feeling as if they're staring at each other, even though Vriska _knows_ they'll never look at each other again and, despite everything, tears start to prick at the back of her remaining eye and it's all she can do to not make a total tool of herself by crying while her ex-best friend takes advantage of her--

And before Vriska can say anything stupid Terezi grumbles: "If I knew that I only had to get a noose around your neck to make you shut up I would have done it ages ago," and Vriska hisses "FUCK YOU" as angrily as she can. 

Then Terezi kisses her, completely missing her lips and Vriska has to contort her head at the _worst_ angle to make it work, in order that she can force her tongue past Terezi's lips and play a game of Russian roulette against the razor points of her teeth. Vriska pulls away, regretfully and mutters: 

"Weren't you going to teach me a lesson, here? I don't have all night." 

Terezi seems to be grateful for this development because she begins her attentions with a renewed interest, languid gestures far too methodical to be truly casual, fingertips rubbing against her in the worst places and Vriska twitches and moans at every brush of Terezi's skin against her own, digging her boot heel deeper and deeper into Terezi's back as she slowly circles her prey until she has the heel of her palm slammed all-too-roughly against her and her fingers slip inside of her nook.

Terezi handles her like she's a weapon, each gesture calm and precise and horrifyingly respectful. Vriska stares up at her as she moans and gasps and twitches and Terezi stares back as if she can truly see her. Each of her noises and gestures is greeted with a response from Terezi's capable hand and--

" _Kiss me_ ," Vriska begs, her voice cracking and instead of teasing her Terezi makes a strangled sound of pity and kisses her, this time making sure that their lips meet. It's a horrible, gut-wrenchingly _tender_ kiss, salt chapped lips meeting ones that are worn ragged by worrying teeth and Vriska can feel her breathing as she pants into their kiss.

Terezi's the one to break of their kiss this time, trailing her lips across the sharp cut of Vriska's jaw before burying her face into her collarbone. Her horns are so close that Vriska can't resist curling her jaw around their architecture, fang tips pressing against the keratin and Terezi shudders above her and the gesture translates into an unforgiving increase in the stealthy movements of Terezi's hand and Vriska pants out " _Fuck you_ just as Terezi's fingers twist at an impossible angle inside of her.

Vriska twitches, without meaning to but who cares, and it's the best horrible feeling to feel herself tightening around Terezi's fingers deep within her and she keens. She keeps questing and when she finally finds the bundle of hypersensitive nerves keep within her, Vriska purrs out a crescendo that makes them both go weak and before she knows what's happening Terezi's thumb is rubbing figure eights against her clit while her fingers stroke inside of her in long gestures that elicit plaintive moans.

Vriska climaxes with a snarl of something that could be a self-depreciating 'that was quick' or a grudging 'fuck you're good at this'. Either way the sensation of it spreads from the points of her horns to the tips of her toes, still warm inside of her boots and she desperately tries to free her hands so she can curl around Terezi and sob as it happens. 

But it's good enough that Terezi kisses her neck where her pulse is beating, hard, and caresses her cheek as she finishes, growling a little at the affection but at the same time sorta grateful because being abandoned right now would only serve to make this encounter a little too black for her liking.

"Fuck you," She mutters as electric floods of sensation continue to wash over her like tide being inexorably drawn by the moon. Terezi hums in agreement and, to Vriska surprise, shoves her onto her side and adeptly unties her hands. 

Vriska wishes she could say that the moment she was freed she wanted to tackle Terezi to the ground and give as good as she'd got but-- well--

The urge to fight has drained out of her with her orgasm and now all she wants to do is cuddle up against her ex-partner in arms and sleep for a little bit and maybe get some more alcohol and possibly brunch if they're serving that?

Vriska flops back onto her back, stretching her arms above her and pretending she isn't perfectly aware she's still lying in a flood of her own genetic material. At this point in time, she's sure that's not the worst thing in this blood-smeared room and doesn't actually care anymore. 

"You're beautiful," Terezi murmurs from beside her, nipping a line down her arm before and Vriska shivers but doesn't protest the compliment. 

She does, however, wrap an arm around her neck and yank her close. Terezi accepts the gesture as commandment and makes herself comfortable, pressing against her ribcage a little _too_ hard.

Vriska's on the point of falling asleep because fuck staying awake she just got off in the first time in ages when Terezi makes a sad noise and timidly reaches up to press her fingers into the bruises blossoming like nightshade along Vriska's throat. She winces and swears, quietly, because Mindfang _will not_ let her live this down but--

"...I never wanted you dead either," She says, like an shy afterthought to something she was thinking and forgot to say aloud, curling against Vriska's side like an oversized kitten, head pillowed just beneath her breasts. Vriska wonders half-heartedly if this is normal or if they need therapy.

They probably need therapy, but whatever. If it makes them happy she supposes it's okay. 

"You always had to take the high road," Vriska mutters, huffing a little. "Even when it made us _lose_."

"The high road _wins_ , though," Terezi protests, but she doesn't make a fuss as Vriska yawns and makes a dismissive gesture with her middle finger. "Just shut your big mouth for a few minutes and pretend that having sex makes you a decent person."

* * *

When they wake up, Redglare is standing in the doorway, blinking down at both of them as if she's completely unsurprised by it all. Vriska is stymied to realize she's not _blind_ because shouldn't she be just as sightless? But, no, she's not, and it's all too clear from the shade of her eyes that she's Terezi's predecessor. 

"You know what?" She says, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "I can't deal with this. My shift ended two minutes ago and I never saw this. I left the building with an old friend who stopped by to take me out for a drink, under the assumption that Miss Serket had been returned to her residence at least an hour before."

She glares down at Terezi between the space of her fingers, and Terezi gives her a smile that's probably meant to be angelic but just comes across being sort of demented. "Understood?" Redglare says, sharply, and Terezi nods, energetically.

"...You know we probably have a pretty good lawsuit against the government over this," Mindfang mutters, looming up behind Redglare like a panther stalking a particularly virulently colored parrot in the darkness of the jungle. "Eight million _at least_ \--"

"Vienna if you don't shut that ungodly talkative mouth of yours I'm going to tie you to a chair and leave you somewhere dark and cold to rot."

"Is that a _promise_ , Prosecutor?" Mindfang purrs and Vriska's incredibly gratified to see the look of horror spread across Redglare's face as she fumbles to rephrase. 

Well, at least it looks like one of them is going to come out on top tonight. Although she's not entirely sure how she feels about having Terezi as a hypothetical step-sister. 

(Because incest jokes are going to get really old really fast.)


End file.
